I'm no hero
by thatcrazygingernerdgirl
Summary: What a way to go, was all he could think. I always thought I would go out with a bang, but no, I was pushed off the edge of a cliff by a crook. What have I come to? I'm no hero... Thinking hurt his already aching brain, and soon, staying alive was too much work.


**AN: Yay, another Tintin fic! Not a very happy one, but uh... Please enjoy! Reviews are always received in a hyper-active daze! :3**

* * *

This was it. He was dying. Tintin scrabbled to catch the edge of the ragged rock, his hands moving through the cold water aimlessly, the current pulling him further and father away from the shore. The fight was endless, his chest starting to burn. The salt water made his eyes ache and sting, but rubbing at them just seemed to be too much effort for him. He kicked out again, trying to grab hold of the cliff, but he couldn't.

Tintin let himself be dragged away, his orange fringe covering his face with every wave, the hypnotic sequence of the tide tugging him into the deep blue yonder.

_Captain! _He tried to scream, his mouth opening and filling with the salt. He couldn't cough, and the shouting only left him even more breathless and filled the water around him with bubbles. Tintin's clothes were weighing him down, and he tried to kick his heavy shoes off. _Curse my good tying skills! _He thought.

The fight was getting harder now, he was struggling to move.

The sunlight sparkled on the water above him, looking almost pleasant. The sea really was quite beautiful, but considering his situation, Tintin wondered that maybe he could have been pushed into a more shallow, warmer and lighter part of the ocean. He almost laughed at himself, and then the tightening band around his throat and lungs strengthened.

_Captain! Captain Haddock, please help me! _Tintin cried out again, but the deepness of the water was crushing his head, the muffled sound echoing around and around in his mind.

He was sure he was choking on the deep blackness around him now.

It enclosed around his throat, and the teen let himself be taken. What was the point? He was doomed now, the water flooding into chest, every inch in his body felt like it was on fire. _What a way to go,_ was all he could think. _I always thought I would go out with a bang, but no, I was pushed off the edge of a cliff by a crook. What have I come to? I'm no hero_, Thinking hurt his already aching brain, and soon, staying alive was too much work.

He shut his eyes, the cold water settling into every pore, freezing every muscle. _So long, Captain. Look after Snowy, eh? _That was all he could think, before the blackness around him seemed to seep into his eyes and mind.

Drowning was not really a big deal, it was almost… easy.

* * *

"Come on, lad. Come on, you're a fighter!" The Captain murmured from the top of the cliff. He crouched down closer, focusing on the spot where his best friend had just plummeted towards.

"Oh, really, it's breaking me 'eart!" cackled the crook. "Give it up, mate. He's a goner." He aimed his gun at the Captains forehead. "Are you going to hop along now?"

"In hell," spat the Captain. "You're a monster, how can you live with yourself? He was sixteen! He was only a kid, how can you push a kid off a cliff?!"

"Aw, please don't make me shoot you, mate. I 'ate 'avin' to clean up afterwards." complained the crook. The Captain folded his arms, and stared him down.

"Go on then, shoot me, you coward! You stupid bashibazook!" the crook yawned slightly.

"Eh, you were already boring me. So long, Archibald Haddock." His long fingers hooked around the trigger, and the bullet fired into the Captain's chest. He fell gracefully backwards into the raging blue beneath him. The Captain was a lot heavier than Tintin, and fell faster through the water. But then, he spotted a familiar head beneath him. As the crimson blood seeped from his chest, he reached down and used all his strength to pull the skinny boy up into his arms.

_I'm sorry I couldn't save you, my boy, _

He put his lips to Tintin's freckled forehead, leaving a dark, sticky red smudge. Tintin's face was slack and cold, his eyes shut and mouth slightly open, lips tinged with blue.

_I'm so, so sorry. _

As the Captain struggled through his final moments, gripping the body to his chest. And then they were both nothing. Two bits of rubbish floating in the sea, to be washed up on a beach somewhere. Perhaps, when that happened, neither would be recognised as the victorious men they both were. Hopefully, they never would be found, and no one would ever discover how they'd died.

No one would ever know, how un-heroic their last minutes had been.


End file.
